


Promises to Keep

by NairobiWonders



Category: Elementary (TV)
Genre: Cancer, F/M, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Joanlock - Freeform, MRI, Medical Tests, Platonic Joanlock - Freeform, biomarkers, mention of illness, up to you as how you interpret
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-16
Updated: 2020-11-16
Packaged: 2021-03-10 04:21:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 619
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27587392
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NairobiWonders/pseuds/NairobiWonders
Summary: Sometimes that which you’ve think you’ve beaten rears it’s head once more. Takes place post season seven.I’m keeping this as a stand alone for now.Thanks for reading
Relationships: Sherlock Holmes & Joan Watson (Elementary), Sherlock Holmes/Joan Watson (Elementary)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 69





	Promises to Keep

On his knees, his back illuminated by the golden glow of the tiny bulb, Sherlock scrubbed the lower back wall of the refrigerator. He assaulted the soy sauce stain with the vehemence he usually reserved for predators and bankers. 

Joan watched for a moment or two before speaking up. “You know, Sherlock, you don’t have to do that.” 

“A bargain is a bargain, Watson.” With a small groan, he righted himself and sat back on his knees. “Although frankly I don’t remember the exact circumstances that led to this particular commitment.”

She smiled and absentmindedly rearranged the bottles and jars and whatnots that sat on the table waiting to be returned to their now clean home. 

“How was your doctor’s appointment? Still think I should have gone with you.“

“This can be tossed.” She shook a plastic container. “Not sure what that is ... or was.”

“I believe that’s Arthur’s science experiment from last spring,” Sherlock waited for her answer his question with growing concern. 

Joan wrinkled her nose and carried the container to the garbage bin. She turned and caught the look of worry on his face. “It’s not that bad,” she tried to reassure him and herself. 

He cocked his head and squinted at her, “What is it that is not that bad?”

“The bloodwork showed that that biomarker rose again, the CEA ... the cancer marker. It’s still sort of within the normal range but because it’s been steadily rising they scheduled me for an MRI tomorrow.” She tried to keep her tone factual, clinical with no emotion.

Stone-faced Sherlock nodded and turned his attention to loading the table’s contents back into the refrigerator. Not knowing what else to say or do, Joan moved closer started handing him the various items she deemed refrigerator-worthy.

“Will this MRI,” he whispered into the refrigerator, “... be sensitive enough to detect if the cancer has returned?” 

“Possibly ... it may.” The slight quiver in her voice betrayed her; she’d hope to hide her fears from him. As a doctor, she understood the facts and science and probabilities, but as a patient she was was finding “its”possible return overwhelming at the moment. 

He closed the refrigerator door and faced her. “I’m going with you tomorrow.” 

Wide-eyed, Joan silently nodded, lowering her head, she turned her attention to the jar in her hand. He realized how scared she was when she didn’t protest. 

Sherlock took the jar from her hand, set it on the table and slowly engulfed her in his arms. “It’s alright ... you’ll be alright ... we’ve been down this road before, hmm? Worse comes to worse, we know where all the bumps and potholes are,” he murmured in her ear.

She lay her head on his shoulder; relaxing into him, letting him take and carry her fears for the moment. “Thank you.”

His hands moved to her waist; pulling her back a bit, he locked his eyes to hers. “Watson, we are detectives, the best of the best, yes? There will be no more jumping to conclusions without data.”

With a thin-lipped smile, Joan moved her hand to wipe his cheek. He was swallowing down his own emotions for her; gratitude and love for him squeezed out all the anxiety and fear from her. “You know, you don’t have to...”

“We are partners, Joan. I go where you go. A promise is a promise.” She happily placed her forehead to his chest; his hand smoothed at her back. He lowered his head and whispered in her ear. “By the way, I have a ten-year stack of sweaters that need to be taken to the dry cleaners.” The warmth of her laughter against his chest spread through him and righted his world again.


End file.
